


Sunrise

by kalypsobean



Series: B2MeM 2014 stories [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:53:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1268806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalypsobean/pseuds/kalypsobean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elrond sends Celebrían away but it signals his own descent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Back to Middle Earth Month](http://b2mem.livejournal.com) 2014 for prompt [Morning Landscape with Trees (Grubicy de Dragon)](http://www.wga.hu/art/g/grubicy/morning.jpg) (picture prompt)

 

Elrond watches the Sea long after the ship has sailed far from sight, out of the estuary and away from the lands they had made their home. He is ashamed to war with his sadness and yet there is too much emotion to tame; her departure leaves him feeling an emptiness too large to fill with grief alone.

 

She was like a leaf; delicate and strong, with a vibrancy that was robbed from her by the coming cold, leaving her colours faded and her skin brittle, weightless in the wind that takes her far away until she falls to the ground and crumbles. He cannot remember her as she was; each flash of laughter and clear pale skin turns dark as it flits through his mind, like an ephemeral vision snatched away by shadows and harsh reality, stark and cold. The feel of her skin is lost to him; his hands are cold, as if the air cools her blood on them, the tears of wounds that are soothed only by his touch. Her voice is that of the wind and the gulls; it is only his heavy heart that weighs him down, a reminder of things left undone and promises to be kept.

There is a breeze coming off the water; it chills him, almost in spite of its gentleness. He wants to think it's her goodbye, her last caress, though he knows she would not be strong enough to conjure it; he lay her on the pallet himself and saw her eyes close and her light fade.

 

This is the turning of the times, when light hides from the shadows and comes the fear of unending night, though it is already here; for him, the sun set on the Sea and will not rise again until he sails and wakes it from its slumber. Yet the world has not caught up with the evening and still shines in tones of gold and red, evergreen and blue, symbolic of a hope not yet born and beyond his ken, for nothing but mourning makes sense in this, a tragedy to herald a new era of watchfulness and sorrow. He does not see it as he rides, alone, away from the water, nor the riders who follow him, but a cloud covers the morning sun as if placed there to cast a shadow in which he can allow his tears to fall.


End file.
